The Letters I Will Never Send
by Fractal Alexander
Summary: Severus Snape, a recent Hogwarts graduate, attempts to justify his choices in secret letters to his former teacher, Professor Albus Dumbledore


**A/N: _This was written for the sixth round of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I play position Chaser 3 on the team Kenmare Kestrals. The prompt was to write a letter as a character to another character; Chaser 3, additionally, had to write to a teacher/student. I wrote as Severus Snape (recent Hogwarts graduate) trying to justify his choices in unsent letters to his former teacher, Professor Dumbledore. My optional prompts were 4. (quote) "If envy were a fever, all the world would be ill" -Danish proverb, and 1_****_5. (word) willing._** I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

If you are reading these letters, it means that either I have been killed or that I have been captured and will soon be killed. You may never read this, for all I know. But in case anything should happen to me, I want you to read this, and let Lily know that I did it all for her.

She may not understand. She may look back on me and view me as a villain, and she won't care about my motives, she'll only see that I went over to the dark side, and that I committed acts which are, by my own admission, unforgivable. I may go to the grave and hear her cursing my name. But this is my decision—and I am aware of its consequences. I hope that, even if Lily doesn't, you, at least, will understand why I have made this decision.

You told me, when I was just in my second year at Hogwarts, that in magic, power is not all—that there is no magic that runs deeper, or stronger, than love. At the time, I laughed at you. But as time went on, I came to realize how right you were. And I can tell you now, I understand fully what you meant—when I realized that Lily did not love me, and never would, that she had chosen Potter over me, I felt it. I felt the strength of my own fury, the depth of my hatred for Potter. With that hatred, that fury, I grew stronger. And I am getting more powerful each day.

Perhaps if you were to speak to the Dark Lord yourself, Albus, you would see the value in his line of thought. The world is changing every day. More and more advancements are being made in magic with each passing moment. This love, this ancient magic you speak of, is stagnant in its value—it may not weaken with time, but it won't grow any stronger, either, and someday soon, there will be a form of Dark Magic that is powerful enough to overwhelm it. He, like I, has seen that this world is cruel and unjust. He, like I, knows that these things you speak of—love, peace, brotherhood—do not exist and cannot exist in this cursed world where there is always a dozen trampled souls for every victor. He, like I, has accepted that—and will fight to come out on top, no matter what it takes.

I will become the man Lily is seeking, and she will see that someday soon. She may even realize why I've chosen to go this way—this is the only road that holds any possibility of victory for me. James Potter was born on the top. She and I were born at the bottom of the heap. And while Potter may be bringing Lily to the top with him, he'll never understand where we come from, what we have grown out of. I will claw my way to victory, no matter what it takes. And she will see me then.

Yours sincerely,

Severus Snape

* * *

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I don't know why I still write these letters.

There, I admitted it. I don't intend to ever send them to you, and even if I were to die, I doubt you would ever find them. But there is some part of me that still tells me these letters are worth writing, if only so that I can remember who I am and what I'm fighting for. I admit it, there are sometimes when my Dark Mark burns and I am suddenly standing in a crowd of other figures—hooded, masked, faceless—and I cannot tell who is who. And I am one of them, one more soldier in his ranks, no name, no face, just another man who is fighting under the Dark Lord's command, seeking the promised reward. It's different for all of us—some want money, some want power, some want blood, some want status…all of us have different reasons for being here, and all of us are promised different rewards. But standing side-by-side, we are all the same—soldiers of the Dark Lord. One is no different from the rest.

If Lily were to see me like this, chances are, even she wouldn't recognize me.

I would take it back, if I could. I would walk outside without a mask, show my face in the light of day. But I cannot change the choice I made, and I can't back out now—I've come too far. I will continue under his command until either I die, he gives me what I want, or he has no further use for me.

Forgive me, Professor Dumbledore. You might say you tried to teach me better, but you and I are different. We walk two very different roads. That is the irrefutable truth.

Yours sincerely,

Severus Snape

* * *

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

With every day that passes, I feel like my image of who I was when I first entered the Dark Lord's service grows fainter and weaker. When I first joined the ranks of Death Eaters, I was naïve, but I thought I was disillusioned—I thought that I could win Lily's heart if I became powerful, that even if there is no magic greater than love, a greater magic could be created. I was mad with jealousy and spite, and although I claimed I simply wanted to right a grave injustice, deep down, it was all about revenge.

And revenge for what? I can't even figure that out anymore.

I won't say that you were right—you and I are very different, after all. I am not one brave of heart, or sharp of mind, or pure of intention—this is why I was placed into the house Slytherin, the house for those who are strong of ambition. You are different from me, and therefore, even if I had made the choices that you encouraged me, based on your experience, to make, there is no guarantee that I could have done any better in life.

But what's the point of turning back now? I've made it this far. I may as well go all the way, get what I can out of this mess. Maybe I'll find something worthwhile here. Maybe Lily will even forgive me.

Yours sincerely,

Severus Snape

* * *

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

You were right. I didn't want to say it before, but now, there is nothing left to say. You were right. You warned me that this would happen, that my desperate thirst for power would cost me dearly. I laughed at you at the time because I thought that I had nothing left to lose. In my eyes, I had the world at my fingertips and only dust at my feet—I had nothing to call my own, all I had was one ambition, and that ambition was to acquire the one thing I could never have. I was willing to give up anything in order to fill that void in my heart, the void Lily left when she left me behind—but I never thought it would end this way.

Everything the Dark Lord has ever said—every time that he's claimed that he could even create a magical working powerful enough to raise the dead—is meaningless when I look at it now. Even if he did manage to find a way to undo death, he still wouldn't bring Lily back to life.

What could I have done differently, Professor Dumbledore? I ask you this humbly. If I hadn't become a Death Eater, if I hadn't sworn my loyalty to the worst man, would I have been able to save her? And James Potter. As much as I hated him, the fact that he saved my life all those years ago keeps coming back to me. He saved my life, and I carved out his grave. What kind of man am I? Lily could never love a man like me. I see that now.

But I always loved her. And I always will. There is nothing that can kill that inside of me.

I already sent you another owl. We will speak later tonight. But by that time, I will have burned all of these letters I have written you over the years. They will be ashes—my envy, my loyalty to the Dark Lord, my mistakes, all of it will be dust again. I will stand before you ready to pledge my loyalty, and to the right man this time—to the man that Lily always told me I should listen to, the man who knows best, the only one the Dark Lord ever feared.

I saw a picture of Lily's son when I went to the house. He looks like a miniature version of his father—not the most tasteful thing for me to see. But he has his mother's eyes.

I don't know if I'll be able to look him in the eye when he reaches Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore. That is one reason I question whether or not you should take me as a Professor. But if you have faith in me, I will trust your judgment…just as Lily always told me I should. You are willing to entrust this to me, who am I to doubt you? You haven't been wrong yet.

Yours sincerely,

Severus Snape


End file.
